Monophobia
by Nifftypop
Summary: A short story about the Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane helping and eventually falling in love with an original character.


I am Jason Peter and I only feel fear, that and anger. Every hour, every minute, every second. There's nothing I can do about it. Everything I've tried to fix it has only made it worse. Music? Too much noise. Meditation? Heart beats too fast and I begin hyperventilating. Drawing? Only scribbles. I shake, I shiver, I cry, but it won't leave my chest, or stomach. Each day begins the same: I wake up at five forty-five am with my heart beating out of my chest and go vomit in the bathroom. There goes my dinner and my appetite. School only makes it worse. I get harassed by this jerk named Charlie. He hits me, spits on me, and insults everything about me. I'm too short, I'm too skinny, I'm not strong enough. I've heard it a million times: 'words can't hurt you,' yes they can, especially when they go along with his punches and kicks. I don't know anymore. I feel like an empty punching bag. Something without value and nothing inside. Except fear. When I'm not getting my ass handed to me by Charlie, I'm in the nurse's office getting patched up and vomiting. I go to Gotham High like most people my age, besides the ones living in the bad part of town; they're all apart of gangs like the Jokerz and Two-Face's crew. Sometimes I wonder if my life would be any better if I was a part of a gang. I don't see much difference, I still get beat up by someone bigger and angrier than me. At school it's Charlie, on the streets it's Batman. I have accepted that my life will never change. After throwing up for the seventh time today, I walk home. I see Charlie and his crew standing on one corner of the street, so I dash into an alleyway. My heart starts beating faster and faster. I feel cold but I'm sweating. My breathing starts getting crazy. Tears are falling down my face and I'm about to vomit. That's when I see him, a man. He's standing on a rooftop but he jumps onto the fire escape and down to the ground. As he steps into the light, I can see who he is, it's the Scarecrow! Oh, God! He sprays people with a toxin that makes people see their greatest fears! He walks up to me and says,

"Hello, little one." The last thing I remember is throwing up and shutting my eyes.

I wake up with my mini heart attack on a couch. I sit up. Where am I? I'm not at home or at a friend's house. Wait, I don't have any friends...right. A figure walks into the light. My eyes move up his body and I see that it's the Scarecrow again! Wait, he's not wearing his mask. What the hell?

He begins, "Hi, my name's Jonathan, Jonathan Crane."

I reply, "I know who you are, stay away from me! You used your toxin on me didn't you? Then you kidnapped me!"

He walks closer with his hands spread and level with his head, "I only took you here because you passed out, no toxin of mine does that. You also managed to soak my clothes in vomit right before you went down, thanks for that." he puts his hands down

"Yeah, well I'm sorry your clothes got messy but you still kidnapped me!"

"Yes, yes, I know, let me explain. I'm a psychologist, Jason, I've dealt with people with a similar problem."

"You're going to have to be more specific. Let's see, I've been kidnapped, I'm being held hostage, and my captor is the freaking Scarecrow! Also, how do you know my name?"

"I'm not holding you hostage and I looked at your school ID. Listen, I want to help you."

"What?"

"You have the most intense case of a panic disorder I've ever seen. I can help you through it, you just have to let me." I'm speechless. I have no idea what to say. I've been kidnapped because I need mental help? That's the exact opposite of what therapy is supposed to be.

Curious, I ask him, "What do you propose?"

"It's simple, you go to school like normal but before you go home, you come here so we can process your day and come up with strategies to handle your panic attacks."

I shift in my seat and ask, "Why are you doing this?"

He takes a seat in a chair next to the couch I'm sitting on, "Because I know what it feels like. I know how your heart works, I know how to help you.

I blush, "You don't know how my heart works, no one does."

He looks deep into my eyes through his glasses, "Yes, I do. Trust me, I do." He hesitates and thinks to himself, "You should probably get home, it's late and your parents are probably worried."

"I don't live with my parents, they live in Missouri while I attend Gotham High. They thought that me going here would be best, they ignored the crime reports."

"Ah, well, I'm sure you don't want to stay here for much longer."

"You would be correct."

"Do you wish for me to walk you home?"

I blush even harder, "No, that's alright, thank you." I quickly pick up my things and ask where the exit is. He points to my left, I thank him, and I rush out the door. As I walk home, I think to myself, that was very strange. Like hell I'm going back there. There is no way I am going to talk to that psycho again. Also, why was I blushing so hard? This isn't an anime where the bad boy gets to sleep with the main character! Although, I have to admit, he was very gentlemanly by offering to walk me home.

I stop walking and say to myself, "Jason, that's gay." I'm losing it. Why was he so attractive? Why do I feel like I want him in my life? There's no way I'm going back there. I reach my house and unlock the door. I walk up to my room and drop my stuff on the floor next to my bed. I strip down to my underwear and jump into bed. I notice the clock is at nine fifty-nine; Jonathan was right, it is late. I spend the next several hours awake thinking to myself about the events that transpired tonight. I was kidnapped by the Scarecrow and brought to his evil lair. Maybe I'm being a little harsh, I wasn't totally kidnapped, I was just picked up and brought to a safer place. And his lair isn't evil, but he is, right? But why would he want to help me? Does he really want to help me? Also, how could I say no to help, even if it is from a scary criminal? I need to listen to what I'm saying, he's a criminal, there's no way he would honestly want to help me, no matter how sexually charged he seems. Though, it may not be his fault, I may just be mistaking his personality and generosity with sexual tension. Now I feel like even more of a freak; I have constant panic attacks, I live alone in Gotham City, and I have the hots for a psychopath. Jesus, I do need help. Maybe I do need a therapist, Jonathan does seem qualified; maybe I'll give him a chance. Yeah, after school tomorrow, I'll head over to his place and see what he thinks he can do to help me. After deciding that, I finally fall asleep. My heart starts beating hard at five forty-five and I get out of bed. I take a shower and think about Jonathan again. Man, this is weird, I'm fantasizing about a guy while I take a shower. Yep, definitely need mental help. I get out of the shower and get dressed. I eat some cereal while I read on my phone about panic attacks. Most people who experience them only have them for a few moments, mine last hours at a time. I definitely have a problem. I get up, collect my things, and go to school. My heart starts beating fast again as I walk and I almost throw up in an alley but I make it to school. I spend the day thinking about Jonathan, what can he do to possibly help me? Maybe I should have a little more faith, he is a psychologist after all. Before I eat lunch, I throw up, at least I have more room for food now. I usually eat lunch by myself at a table in the corner but today is a little different. Charlie and his friends come up to my table, he takes my milk off my tray, and spills it all over my pants.

He then states, "Hey, guys look who wet his pants!" He and his friends laugh, no one else pays attention. My heart starts beating fast again. I don't know what to do, when do I ever though? I run into the bathroom and throw up into the toilet. I pick myself up and wash the milk off my pants and try to soak the rest of my trousers so that it doesn't actually look like I wet myself. Charlie runs into the bathroom I'm in and starts laughing again. He must find it hysterical that he made me throw up. I angrily stomp out of the bathroom and pick up my things from my table. I walk to the nurse and they give me some antacids for my stomach. Most people would go to their counselor about their problems but mine doesn't care. The last time I talked to her, she just said I need to go to the nurse and go home because I might have a case of the stomach flu. I spend the next hour crying silently to myself on one of the beds in the office and wishing I was dead. The final bell of the day rings and I run out of school. I run crying to Jonathan's place and knock on the door. He answers and immediately freaks out because I'm crying on his doorstep.

He helps me inside and tells me to lay down on the couch I woke up on and he gets me some tea. "Here, it's from my friend Jervis, he's kind of a tea concierge." Obviously noticing that nothing is comforting me, he asks me what I need.

I reply, "Nothing, I just need to be alone for a little bit."

Getting up, Jonathan says, "Alright, just yell if you need anything." He leaves the room and leaves me to my own. What a great first day of therapy.

After about thirty minutes, Jonathan comes back into the room. "Are you feeling any better?"

I nod obviously not in tears anymore, "Yes, thank you. Sorry about all this, I didn't want us to meet again like this."

"It's fine, I've had colleagues do the same thing." I assume by 'colleagues' he means other super criminals.

He sits down in a chair next to the couch and picks up a pen and a clipboard. "So, where do you want to start with today?"

I reply, "I start every day the same: I wake up with a heart rate of a hundred and fifty, get ready for school, get punched a lot, and throw up several times in the nurse's office. I've tried a million different things from self help programs to meditation and even drugs, but nothing ever works. I'm alone, not just at home, but at school too. I don't have any friends. I'm not in any clubs or anything because I think it's too much pressure to make a commitment to go to meetings every week because I never feel like going after the first meeting." I sigh, "I don't know where I'm going with this."

Jonathan looks up from his clipboard, "No, this is good. I need to know basic background information about you first so that we can move forward." He smiles, damn, even his smile is cute. "Please, continue."

"I get bullied by this one guy, Charlie. He hits me and calls me names. Today, he spilled milk all over my pants so I had to wash it off and as a result, I threw up."

Jonathan asks, "What about Charlie spilling milk on you makes you anxious?"

I respond, "I'm not sure, it's not a public image thing."

"Then it must be pride."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

Pleased with himself, Jonathan smiles again and scribbles more on his paper. "Why do you feel you need to maintain a certain ego? I'm not saying having an ego is bad, I'm just asking why you feel that way?"

"I guess I feel I have no one else to impress but myself. I'm not dating anyone so I guess I feel I need to live up to something. I don't have any friends, like I said before, I don't have a social status so I have to give myself standards. Is that bad?"

"Not at all. In fact, being the only person you feel you need to impress is a healthy step that many people struggle with, even myself." I never would have guessed that about him, he seems like the kind of person who would have everything he needs. He begins again, "So, in the way of love life, where do you stand? I know you said you don't really have one but do you have any crushes or anyone who you do feel attracted to or dating?"

Oh, God, what do I say? 'I like you and find you very attractive?' I gotta think fast before he detects anything. Blushing hard, I say, "No, I don't want to date anyone."

Looking up, he asks, "Then why are you blushing so hard right now?"

Dammit! "I don't want you to know."

"Why is that? It's not like I know them. They probably go to your school, right? I don't know anyone from Gotham High. All my friends have graduated and are no longer my friends."

Oh, thank God he's clueless. "I don't know, I just don't feel comfortable telling anyone right now."

"Okay, that's fine, I don't need to know to help you through your panic attacks." I just dodged the biggest bullet of my life. He continues, "You said your heart beats extremely fast when you wake up, or does it wake you up? Why is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure, I don't have any nightmares but it always wakes me up around the same time, five forty-five."

"So your dreams have no impact on your heart?"

"No, I don't even have dreams."

"Then it must be a subconscious series of thoughts that are in tune with your internal clock. When your body says that it's time to wake up, your subconscious must worry in anticipation about the day and your heartbeat begins to speed up."

Never in my life have I ever heard anything more insightful. "That… actually makes a lot of sense."

"I'm glad I could shed some light on the situation." He glances at his watch, "It's getting pretty late, you should probably head home."

I check my phone and see that four hours have passed. Already? "Yeah, you're right." I pick up my things and head towards the door.

Jonathan says as he stands up, "Goodnight, Jason, I'm happy to have helped if I did."

I turn back and say, "Yeah, thanks, night." I start blushing again and rush out the door.

Why? Why do I have to have feelings for him? The weird thing is that me talking to him made my feelings grow worse. Should I tell him? Would that only make things really weird between us? If it does, I won't have anyone to talk to. I can't lie to him forever, he'll find out eventually. A few days much like today go by, I go to school, have an awful day, and I go over to Jonathan's for therapy. My feelings grow worse and worse each day. I think about him more when I'm not with him and when I am, I have a panic attack but they're weird. My heart beats faster but not too fast. I feel warm around him but my hands are so cold. I'm nervous every time he asks me about my love life because of how much I want him to be apart of it. I need to tell him. I can't go on like this, denying my feelings and lying to my therapist. That settles it, I'm going to tell Jonathan how I feel about him.

As soon as school got out today, I ran to Jonathan's prepared to tell him how I feel. I knock on the door and he lets me in. I set my stuff down and lay down on the couch.

Jonathan begins, "How was your day?"

I reply, "It was a little scary."

"Why would that be?"

"I finally worked up the courage to tell my crush how I feel."

"How did it go?"

"I haven't told them yet."

"When will you?"

I look into his eyes past his glasses, "Right now. Jonathan, I like you."

The look on Jonathan's face was showing only shock and awe. "R-really?"

"Yes."

He laughs nervously, "You're not kidding are you?"

"Nope."

He stands up sweating and shaking, "Excuse me for a moment." He leaves the room. Oh, God, was that too much for him? Should I have waited longer?

An hour passes and finally Jonathan comes back into the room and asks, "Are you sure you actually have feelings for me?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Yes!"

He laughs nervously again, "Okay, how do you think we should proceed?"

"I don't know man, you're the psychologist. Though I guess it would be pretty unprofessional for a doctor to date one of his patients."

He looks at me with a seductive smirk, "We can be unprofessional if you want."

Oh, Jesus, what have I done? I nervously reply, "Not yet, I still need to know more about you."

"That'll be easy. Growing up I was bullied a lot and I too had a panic disorder." I'm honestly shocked. He continues, "The bigger kids in my school and neighborhood would harass me by beating me up. Every day I was in constant terror and there was nothing I could do about it. When I was younger, people didn't really know about anxiety and panic disorders so I had very little help, until I learned to embrace the fear."

"You embraced it?"

"Yes, I let it consume me and I came out a new person. I became the Scarecrow and I dedicated my life to the study of fear. I developed toxins that would make me feel fear so I could embrace it more. Eventually, I became immune to toxins and the only thing that terrified me was Batman. I needed to feel fear so I needed to give Batman a reason to hunt me down. I would intimidate the city with empty threats and filled them with hollow fears in hopes that Batman would come for me so I could feel fear again, and it worked. I could feel terrified again and I loved it."

"I guess that makes you an emotional masochist with an addiction to fear. I do have one question, why did you jump in front of me the night we met?"

Jonathan looked down, "I wanted to see if I could get any satisfaction by instilling fear into others, but when you passed out, I realized that I didn't like it."

"So I was the first person you tried to make afraid?"

"Yes, I never felt the need to make other people feel afraid. Criminals aren't the only ones who lie about themselves. The police force is corrupt and makes us look worse than we actually are."

"That's so stupid!"

"Tell me about it. They claim that I have exposed people to my fear toxins but I've only threatened the city and literally did nothing to it after Batman started chasing me." He glances once again at his watch, "You should probably go home, I think we both have a lot to think about."

I get up, collect my things, and head toward the door, "Yeah, you're probably right, I'll see you tomorrow."

"It's a date." he says as he winks at me. I blush hard and walk home.

Flustered, I shut the door behind me after I get home. Did he actually have feelings for me this whole time? I'm so confused. After I stop thinking about Jonathan, I collapse into bed and actually get a good night's sleep for once. Instead of waking up to a heartbeat of a hundred and fifty, I wake up naturally. Could my feelings for Jonathan and him reciprocating them really be my cure for my anxiety? I push that thought aside and get ready for school. For the first time in my life, I had a good day. I didn't vomit and Charlie was home sick for the day so I had no one to punch or kick me. After school, I casually walk to Jonathan's, excited with the thought of seeing him again. I knock on his door and he answers. He greets me with a friendly and caring tone of voice. He lets me in, I lay down on the couch, and we talk about my day. I told him it was good and he was happy to hear that. He was even happier to learn that he was the reason why my day was good in the first place. It's Friday, so I stay there longer than normal. Eventually, we hear a knock at the door. Jonathan opens it and a short blond man with a large overbite happily greets Jonathan.

Jonathan introduces me to him, "Jason, this is Jervis."

I respond shocked, "Jervis? Jervis Tetch? The Mad Hatter?"

Jervis extends his hand and says, "Nice to meet you Jason." I shake his hand with a worried look in my eyes.

Jonathan interjects, "Now, I know you've probably heard some bad things about Jervis, but much like my case, things have been greatly exaggerated. Jervis doesn't kidnap anybody or molest little girls like how the media has stated him to do so."

I relax and put on a small smile, "Ah, that's very reassuring."

Jervis responds with, "Yes, the only thing illegal or immoral I've done is steal tea; I was fresh out of college and completely broke due to student loans. So, I didn't have any money for it!"

Jonathan again interjects, "If you ask me, you're more addicted to tea than I am to fear."

"That's debatable Mr. 'God of Fear.'" Jervis replies jokingly. "Well, it's Friday, I brought tea, popcorn, and a copy of Mean Girls. You ready to get started?"

"Perfect." Jonathan says looking very pleased with his friend. "Will you be joining us, Jason?"

"Sure, sounds like fun! Just as long as you have sweetened tea." I say excitedly.

Jervis turns to me and says, "I have everything, my good man, shall we get this show on the road?"

Jonathan replies, "Definitely."

After we let Jervis inside, he immediately begins brewing tea, sweetened for me and chai for Jonathan.

I turn to Jonathan after receiving our mugs and turning on the movie, "I wouldn't take you for a chai tea kind of guy, Jonathan."

"Yeah, I basically like two things: chai tea and fear."

All of us fall asleep before the movie ends because we all know the entire movie by heart, so there was nothing new to us. Jervis was the first to wake up. He wakes Jonathan who, in turn, wakes me. I look at my phone and it's only seven thirty.

I say, "Damn, it's still so early, what do you guys want to do?"

Jonathan replies, "I don't know, check the news to see what our friends out of Arkham are doing?"

Before I could say anything, Jervis interjects with, "Sounds good to me, I wonder if Harley finally opened that toy store."

I finally get a chance to speak, "Wait, Harley Quinn wants to open a toy store?"  
Jervis responds, "Yeah, besides being a psychiatrist, her dream was always to bring joy to children in the form of toys because she grew up having a ton of them. She says she was at her happiest when she was with her stuffed animals and dolls, and she wanted to spread her happiness to other children."

I ask somewhat confused, "How would she be able to open a toy store with her criminal record?"

Jonathan answers, "Arkham Asylum is the only place that knows what us 'villains' are really up to so they're pretty lax on our treatment. If I didn't know any better, I would say that it's just a normal mental institution. Jervis, Harley, and I all graduated with a Certificate of Sanity. Joker, on the other hand, I'm not too sure about what his deal is; he just likes to mess with the guards and staff there so they just keep extending his stay."

I ask, "But how do people outside of Arkham know that they are better and not evil?"

Jervis answers, "Because when it comes to businesses and other forms of professional circumstances, the employer does a background check and immediately finds our Arkham files. Since those documents are the only true records of our pasts and we're not guilty of anything too crazy, we can achieve anything any other Gothamite could."

"That's so interesting. It's too bad the media keeps portraying you in such a poor light." I say with a disappointed tone of voice.

Jonathan begins, "Don't worry, no one ever recognizes us without our costumes on. Most of the time, we get comments like 'you look very familiar' or 'do I know you from somewhere?'"

A bit puzzled, I ask, "What do you say to avoid the question?"

Jonathan has most half-assed response, "'I just have one of those faces.'"

"Eh, if it ain't broke, don't fix it." I say shrugging my shoulders.

Jervis interjects, "Anyway, let's check the news."

Jervis turns on GCN and the first thing that pops up is breaking news about a group of people called the Victim's Syndicate.

"Who are these guys? Wannabe look alikes?" I asked totally confused.

"No idea, though they do look fairly similar to some of our friends." Jonathan adds.

I look at the screen intently, "This one looks like you, Jon."

Jonathan takes a closer look, "Her name is Madame Crow; there's no way in hell that's a coincidence."

Jervis asks, "Why are they called the Victim's Syndicate if they're just copying us?"

Jonathan concludes with a theory, "Here's my theory: we haven't actually done anything to anyone so maybe they're just exaggerating the fact that they are victims when in reality they are just inspired by us." Jonathan concludes.

"At least none of them are copying you, Jervis." I say trying to reassure him.

Jervis looks down and disappointedly sighs.

Jonathan then says, "Well, they probably won't bother us, Batman will most likely take care of them for us and the rest of Gotham." He pauses, "Let's just hope they won't do anything catastrophic like Joker when he doesn't take his meds."

Suddenly, the TV screen switches to a video of the Victim's Syndicate.

Who I assume the leader is begins to talk, "Attention Gotham, we are the Victim's Syndicate. We mean no harm to the noble citizens in this fair city, but we will inflict our vengeance on the wicked. You know who you are and we are coming for you."

All of us are in shock.

After a few moments, I break the silence, "Your true identities aren't public, are they, guys?"

Jonathan nervously replies, "They are, but they don't know where we live. It's probably best if we lay low for a while."

The night ends with all of us worried about Jonathan's safety. I say goodbye to Jervis and Jon then head home. I glance at my phone and see that it's eleven thirty at night. I'm pretty scared of the Victim's Syndicate finding and interrogating me about Jonathan or Jervis, so I lightly jog home. I reach my house and lock the door behind me. I don't get any sleep that night because I'm too worried about Jonathan's safety.

Around ten in the morning I take a nap and have a nightmare of Jonathan being killed by Madame Crow. I wake up having a panic attack, heart beating fast, cold sweat rolling down my back, and the urge to vomit arising. I run to the bathroom and throw up. God, I don't want anything to happen to Jonathan.

A few days pass with me checking in on Jonathan just to make sure he's okay. He usually is, but I can't help but worry every day. I eventually go to the police station and ask about the Victim's Syndicate, but they haven't heard anything. After school ends on Friday, I go over to Jonathan's and turn on the TV to see if the Victim's Syndicate is making any moves. So far, nothing on the news says anything about them. Jonathan is tired of hiding so he decides to go on a walk with me. We go on a long walk, covering several blocks of the city for a few hours without any problems.

We then cross Crime Alley and see a figure on the rooftops. I'm paralyzed with fear. The figure jumps down off the fire escape into the alley and walks toward us. It's Madame Crow! Oh, God, what are we going to do?

I ask Jonathan, worried for our safety, "Would you by any chance have any fear toxin on you?"

Jonathan replies, "I'm kicking myself for not bringing any."

"Damn."

Crow walks closer to us and begins, "Ah, Jonathan Crane, you're a hard one to find. I've scoured the city looking for you for days now, but here you are, like a present on Christmas morning."

Jonathan steps up to her, "And what could you possibly do, my dear? You don't seem nearly as terrifying as you look on TV."

I pull on Jonathan's sleeve, "Jon, come on, run!"

He pushes me away, "Good idea, get out of here, Jason!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

Crow looks at me and says, "Don't worry little one, I'm not going to hurt you," she then turns to Jonathan, "But I'm going to hurt you a lot."

She pulls a handgun out and aims right at Jonathan's heart and pulls the trigger.

"No!" I scream as Crow runs off laughing. I run back to Jonathan and hold him in my arms. "No, this can't be happening! Jonathan! No!"

Jonathan weakly touches his hand to my face, "It's okay, Jason, you're cured, I've completed my purpose, you're happy."

I reply with tears in my eyes and rolling down my cheeks, "I can't be happy without you, Jonathan. I-I love you."

"I love you too." After that, Jonathan's eyes close and his soul leaves his body.

"I love you…"

Several weeks pass and things have changed. I'm not me. I quit school and never thought twice about going back. I feel I can learn more from Jonathan. He may be gone but he hasn't stopped teaching me. I've been going through his notes on his fear toxins and learned how to make them. I live in Jonathan's place now because I got evicted. I don't care.

One day, Jervis came to the door, curious and looking for Jonathan. This whole time he's been laying low in fear of the Victim's Syndicate and he just now built up the courage to go to Jonathan's.

I tell him the bad news, "Jonathan's dead, Jervis."

"What?!"

"Madame Crow killed him, he died in my arms."

"No! God, how could I have let this happen?"  
"It's not your fault Jervis, it's her's."

"Madame Crow? We have to go to the police!"

"No, I'm going to handle this."  
"What do you-" before he could finish, I shut the door.

Time to return to my studies. Ever since Jonathan died, I've been at work. Perfecting his toxins, making them better, more effective. Whoever gets sprayed with my latest batch will see the greatest form of terror for the rest of their short lives. Now it's just a matter of time until my opportunity arises.

Months go by, and nothing changes. I'm on the same agenda: Study, work, think, dream, fantasize. I miss him, Jonathan. There isn't a second that crawls by that I don't think of him. Everything I'm doing is for him.

Jervis comes knocking at the door again, "Jason? Are you okay? The last time I checked on you, you didn't seem like yourself."

I don't answer. "Jason, please, answer the door."

Finally, I open it, "What do you want Jervis?" I ask with a hoarse voice.

Jervis stops, "What's wrong with your voice?"

"Lots of screaming and crying, what do you want?"

"I want to know how you're doing, also I need someone to talk to."

"I'm fine, just busy." I reply with a monotone voice.

"What are you busy with?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"I can't tell you that either."

Jervis shakes his head trying to shake off that comment, "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, about Jonathan."

"What about?"

"I wanted to ask about his body, what did you do with it?"

"He was cremated, it's what he wanted. He actually wrote instructions in case he died."

"How did you find them?"

"I found them looking through his things for recipes for his fear toxins."

Jervis looks at me with the most concerned face a man could have, "Why do you need his fear toxin?"

"All I can tell you is that it's for Jonathan. Vengeance is coming, Jervis." I shut the door and after a few moments, Jervis walks away.

I've stopped counting the days since Jonathan passed, there's no need to, he still lives in my heart. One night, I finally perfect it, the most powerful fear toxin known to mankind. My victim will see their greatest fears and will die of terror. Their adrenal glands will overdose on adrenaline and they will suffer an intense heart attack. They will also suffocate due to the pure concentration of the toxin itself. Now all I have to do is find my target.

A week full of research passes and I learn Madame Crow's real name and where she works. Her name is Abigail O'Shay and she's an accountant working for a local freelance business. Now is the time for action. Ever since Jonathan died, I created a functioning costume of my own. The mask bears a resemblance to Leatherface's mask in Texas Chainsaw Massacre with an additional black hat on top. The neck has a cut noose and the body has a long black trench coat with the arms ripped to the forearms. It also has the capability of firing fear toxin from a syringed gauntlet on the left hand. I put on my costume and head out of the house. I jump across the rooftops until I see who I'm looking for: Madame Crow.

I jump down into the alleyway next to her and slowly approach, "Oh, Abigail, I've been looking for you." I say slowly scraping the fire escape with my gauntlet.

Abigail shudders, "Wh-who are you?"

"Everything you tried to run from, every fear, every bugbear and hobgoblin you've tried to avoid. I am his vengeance, the Scarecrow's vengeance!"

"Ar-are you the boy who was with Scarecrow when he died?"

"When you killed him! He bled out in my arms and there was nothing I could do. He was the only person I ever loved and you took him away from me! I couldn't change his fate, and now you can't change yours."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do the best I can." I say with a wicked smile. For the rest of that night, all anyone could hear were her screams, but no one came to help.

I am the Scarecrow and I only feel fear, that and anger.


End file.
